


Cats At The Opera

by Morpheus626



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:28:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morpheus626/pseuds/Morpheus626
Summary: I like Queen, I like cats, and now here we are lol. Aka, the boys find kittens while on tour, and what to do then (since kittens generally are not the best of road crew employees, not their fault, it's the lack of thumbs really)?Also did I intend for this to get a lil sad at the end? No, but I’m a sad gay myself as I write this, Feeling Things and thinking about my own life, and well...there we are.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Cats At The Opera

**Author's Note:**

> References to the setlist for the concert in this fic come from this page: http://www.queenconcerts.com/live/queen/1976-anato.html, which I found had a typical setlist for this tour period noted.

“Your jacket is meowing,” Roger frowned. “That doesn’t seem right.” 

“Never you mind,” Freddie said, standing with his arms holding his wriggling jacket shut. “Get ready for the show, go on. I’ll be ready in time.” 

“Freddie,” Brian said, and dodged forward to catch a kitten as it tumbled from Freddie’s jacket pocket. “Who are these tiny ones? And where did you get them?” 

“They were in a box, in the alley,” Freddie said defensively. “No note, no food, no water. If you think I was going to leave them there, you’re mad.” 

“And you didn’t bring the box in because...” 

Freddie winced. “Looked rough. I think they’d been in there for a few days.” 

“And your game plan for them during the show?” John mused as he picked up another kitten, attempting to crawl down the fabric of Freddie’s trousers. “To keep them back here, or were you going to hope the audience didn’t notice your costume meowing and wiggling?” 

“Hadn’t really gotten that far,” Freddie admitted, finally letting the final two kittens free from his jacket to explore the dressing room. “Figured I’d manage something, find another box, maybe see if the techs wanted a friend to tag along with them during the show...” 

Roger snickered as he snagged one of the kittens before it could escape the room. “Would you like that? You want to help run a concert?” 

The kitten yowled, but settled against Roger after a moment. 

“Seems like a yes,” Roger said. “However, might not be the safest.” 

The kitten meowed again. 

“I know, but you don’t even have thumbs,” Roger said, giving the kitten a gentle kiss atop its tiny head. “How can you help restring a guitar without thumbs?” 

“Could we set up a little daycare area for them?” Brian asked, already moving things around the room to create barriers in the corner near their gear. The kitten he’d been holding was perched on his shoulder, nosing through his curls, claws digging in on occasion as evidenced by Brian’s wincing. “And then shut the door?” 

“Seems the best,” John said. “Otherwise they’ll end up out on stage with us.” 

“Could bring just one out, for a moment,” Freddie said. “I think the fans would like that.” 

“But will the cats?” Roger asked, laughing as the kitten in his hand nipped at him playfully. 

“What about after the show?” John asked, rescuing the final kitten from where it was stuck trying to clamber into a suitcase of their costumes. “Surely we can’t bring them with, I mean...” 

“Well, I’m not just leaving them anywhere,” Freddie sighed. 

It took a moment, then the lightbulb went off for all of them. 

“I bet we’ve got fans who would happily take home one of you,” Roger said to his kitten. “So we bring them out, one by one, in between songs-” 

“Has to be in between, or it’ll be much too loud for them,” Freddie interrupted. “As it is, we’ll have to hope the crowd listens to me and stays quiet, or they’ll be frightened, and I don’t want to do that to them.” 

“What proof do we need that they’ll be going to a good home?” Brian pondered. “We’ll be here for a few hours after cleaning up. Maybe a rule that they have to come back at least an hour after the show, with a carrier, some food, something to prove they can look after them?” 

“Might be as good as we can get,” John said. “But still better than having them all crowd the back of the venue, making a snap decision just because we’re the ones that found the cats.” 

That decided, they temporarily corralled the kittens into the corner, a wall of too-tall and too-smooth to climb over suitcases as barrier. 

“Oh that is painful,” Freddie whimpered as he dressed. “Please don’t cry.” 

But the tiny mews and whines continued, and as soon as Freddie was done dressing he was at their beck and call, stealing what dishes he could find for water. 

“We’ll get you food as soon as we can,” he fussed. “Could we send someone out?” 

“We’ve got to be onstage, Freddie,” Brian said. “But after, we could. They’ll be okay for now, I’m sure.” 

And for the beginning of the show, that seemed to be the case. 

Until March of the Black Queen. 

As if on cue, the one black kitten stumbled out on stage, only to freeze under the lights. 

Looks were exchanged. ‘How?’ and ‘Oh fuck’ the sentiments contained within them. 

But Freddie didn’t miss a beat, plucking the kitten up from the stage floor and holding it to his chest. If the little claws that surely had to be snagging the satin of his outfit hurt as the kitten squirmed, he didn’t let on. 

“Well, someone made an early appearance,” he said as they ended the song. “Everyone, say hello to one of the kittens we found near the venue. Kitten, say hello!” 

The crowd roared, and Freddie pressed a kiss to the kitten’s head to calm it. 

“Quietly, loveys. Imagine how this little one must feel! We’re all very big and loud, and he’s only a dear small thing,” Freddie continued. “Now, there’s four of them, just like us! However, unlike us, they are in dire need of caring homes, as we unfortunately have no room for them as part of the road crew.” 

The crowd let out a sad sigh. 

“I know, but they’d be safer with one of you than all of us on tour. We’ll introduce the other three during the rest of the show, and if you’re interested, come back here an hour after the show with something to take one of these darlings home in, and they’re yours.” 

“What’s he called?!” a voice cried out.

“Oh? Well, we haven’t named them,” Freddie said, and turned to the rest of the band. 

“Freddie,” Roger said. 

“What?” 

“No, the cat!” Roger said. “Not a bad name, right?” 

The crowd cheered, albeit much more softly than before. 

Freddie rolled his eyes and smiled. “Fine. Freddie it is. Now I’m going to make sure he’s safe backstage, and we’ll do a few more songs before you meet the rest, alright?” 

A louder shout from the crowd, that echoed as he trotted backstage with the kitten. 

“Well no wonder,” he sighed. “Who knocked this suitcase over, hm? Or was it a group effort?” 

The other kittens were mercifully still in the room, though creating chaos of their own as they tumbled about in open bags and other suitcases. 

“Fitting then that we’re naming the rest of you after the other lads,” Freddie said as he tried to wrangle them quickly back to their original area. “Now please, stay put until I come to get you each. Can you do that?” 

Eight bright eyes stared up at him, not a single answer behind them, as innocent as could be. 

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Freddie said, and jogged back to the stage, careful to shut the door of the dressing room again as he went. 

By the end of the show, the other three (Brian gifting his name to the tortoiseshell, John his name to the grey tabby, and Roger to the ginger one that had yelled so adorably at him backstage) had all been introduced, and the only thing left to do was wait. 

“How likely do you think anyone will be to come back?” Brian pondered as he lounged on the couch at the back of the room, his namesake sleeping in his arms. 

Roger shrugged. “Roger! I mean...god that’s weird, saying my own name. Didn’t think of that. But get out of there, you’ll get stuck.” 

He crawled out from behind the make-up table mirrors, the ginger kitten mewing his displeasure at losing their adventure, held tightly in his hand. 

“I’d be happy to keep this fellow,” John said. His kitten had settled on his lap as soon as he’d sat by Brian on the couch, and was awake, but as calm as could be. “He’s a good boy. Or girl, I admit I don’t know how to tell the difference and I don’t much care. You’re an angel no matter what, aren’t you?” 

“So is mine,” Roger protested. “He’s just curious. Nothing wrong with curious.” 

“Not at all,” Freddie agreed. He was sat in the armchair in the room, his kitten alternating between laying in his lap and crawling up his shoulder to play with his hair. “Still, keep him from behind those damned tables. I wish we could push them closer to the wall, so they couldn’t get in there at all.” 

“Hello!” 

The venue manager, an older woman, smiled as she rounded the door. “Sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know, no one has shown up yet. But that might be okay, if you all don’t mind this alternative.” 

She stepped inside fully and nodded. 

“Sorry?” Brian asked, echoing the confusion on all their faces. 

“Me! I mean, I foster kittens. Well, except for the ones that end up staying with me, or my family members. Nothing excessive, mind you. I’ve got two right now, both little ladies that love being foster moms to the kittens I bring home,” she said. “I have pictures...” 

Sure enough, she had a small booklet of Polaroids in her purse, of her two cats and some of the kittens she’d fostered and found homes for. 

“And you don’t just give them out to anyone, I’m sure,” Freddie said, a hint of worry in his voice. 

“Oh goodness, no,” she replied. “They have to have a few meetings with the cats, make sure they get along, then I do a check of their home as well, and we go over the best way to take care of a cat, if they’ve never had one before or if it’s been awhile. I also ask they stick with using the veterinarian that I use, so they can help me track progress, and make sure the cats are doing well.” 

“And that’s gone well?” Roger asked. “I don’t mean to make it sound like that, I just mean-” 

She interrupted him with a wave of her hand. “No, I understand you. It has, I’ve never homed a cat with anyone who didn’t cooperate with my guidelines. And I’m told I’m more of a hard-ass about it than the shelter in town!” 

She pulled a carrier in from the hallway. “I brought this, just in case. If you’d rather wait and see if any fans show, we can do that too, but I wanted you to know I’m here to help if you’d like.” 

“We do need to get on the road,” Brian sighed. “Though it’s hard, leaving them behind. Bit fond of them now, if I’m honest.” 

“Reminds me of home,” Freddie admitted, before handing over his kitten to her. “Truthfully, I’d rather they go to you now. We know you can look after them, and make sure they’re well and safe.” 

She nodded, and took each kitten in turn, even as Roger’s clung to his shirt as she gently took it from him. 

“Don’t make it worse,” Roger murmured sadly to the kitten. “God, I wish we could have a road cat now. At least one.” 

“Maybe you can visit these little ones if you come back our way,” the manager said. “If that’s any consolation. And if you want, I can send letters with updates too, once you’re home.” 

She left with a carrier full of a kittens, and page with their addresses on it for the letters, and the dressing room was suddenly terribly empty. 

“That’s that,” Roger frowned. “I’m more upset than I thought I would be. Roger the kitten was an asshole who liked trouble, but I liked that about him, you know? No fear.” 

“Just like you,” Brian said with a smile, but it was a bitter-sweet one. “Come on, we’ve got to get moving.” 

“I have fears, quite reasonable ones,” Roger scoffed playfully. “Like you, early in the morning.” 

“He’s barely away in the morning,” John interjected. “I should know, I have to help wake him up on time.” 

“How did this turn from a kitten rescue mission into ‘pile on Brian’ day?” Brian asked Freddie, who only shrugged. 

“Nights can be many things, Brian,” Roger replied. “Come help me load this all up, and maybe I’ll be brave enough to help John wake you up tomorrow so we actually make it out on time.” 

Brian shook his head. “Coming, Freddie? I don’t blame you if you don’t want to now, with these two.” 

Freddie nodded. “I’ll bring my things by in a moment. You lot head to the van; I’ll meet you there.” 

Outside, the venue manager was settling the cats into her car, and she smiled as Freddie approached. “One last goodbye?” 

“I miss my own desperately,” he said, a finger to the mesh of the carrier that the kittens fumbled to sniff and lick at. 

“But you’ll see them soon enough, I bet.” 

“It’s never soon enough,” he said. “Even if it might be just me and them for a bit.” 

“I’m sure there’s someone who would be happy to share a house with you and your cats,” she said. “I mean, you’re...well. You know what I mean. You’re you!” 

“I am,” he sighed. “Most certainly myself. And it isn’t that there isn’t someone back home, it’s just...” 

“It’ll work out,” she said softly. “Whatever it might be. However it might be. I’ve seen plenty of musicians come and go, and heard various dramas and what not. But you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. And I’ve got a good feeling about it.” 

“Thank you,” he managed before any of the tears rapidly threatening to fall from his eyes could make a move. 

But there was no hiding it from the boys. 

“I know, Freddie,” Roger said softly as Freddie joined them in the van. “It was nice though, getting a little taste of home like that, wasn’t it? And they’re in good hands.” 

He managed a nod, and was grateful that for now, everyone else was unaware of the other things weighing on his mind, on replay whenever the moment seemed worst for them to come up. Better that they thought it was just about the kittens, for tonight. 

And maybe there would be another cat at the shelter in need of a home, by the time he got back. It might take time yet, to figure everything else out, for himself and those he loved. But he could give some tiny, sweet, creature a good home in the meantime, and that was some solace. 


End file.
